But Do You Love Me?
by silkplants
Summary: Arthur and Alfred have known each other almost their entire lives, and even gotten married. But after twenty five years of being together, they're not sure how they feel. Arranged marriage. Inspired from the Fiddler on the Roof song 'Do You Love Me' USUK.


When Arthur was four years of age, his parents took him to meet the newborn Alfred Jones. His thick brows knit in confusion, he looked into the crib, reaching into it. Alfred had grabbed his finger with a surprising amount of strength, and Arthur frowned, taking his hand back from the infant. It was there that Alfred's parents and his own announced Arthur and Alfred's betrothal. Arthur didn't understand what that meant quite yet, but his parents seemed happy, so he would be too.

When Arthur learned what betrothal meant, he was, decidedly, not happy. He was five, now, and Alfred was one, and he had yet to see any good qualities in the boy. Though, perhaps he should have given him a better chance, given Alfred wasn't even speaking much yet. Already, Arthur found Alfred's twin, Matthew, to be much more agreeable.

Arthur and Alfred saw each other often, at their parent's instruction. Though their parents told them to 'get to know' one another, they could find something else to entertain themselves. Something that didn't even require them to acknowledge the other boy. Alfred was five, and Arthur nine.

When Arthur was fifteen, Alfred was the 'mature' age of eleven. Arthur was quite sure that he had never been so annoyed by one individual in all his life. When Alfred would talk on and on like he knew everything there was to know, Arthur would open a book and ignore him. Though, that was easier said than done, as Alfred knew when Arthur was ignoring him. Then, Alfred would do everything he could think of to get Arthur's attention. Arthur only gave in when he started doing something exceptionally stupid. He wouldn't be held responsible if the idiot hurt himself somehow.

Alfred came to stay at Arthur's house when he was thirteen, and Arthur was seventeen. Alfred had matured at least somewhat, he wasn't quite as annoying, and Arthur found that he could stand him. While Alfred wasn't one for books, he had a very active imagination. Every once in a while, Arthur would listen to him ramble on about some ridiculous idea he had. Sometimes, it even sounded doable. In those moments, Arthur and Alfred were almost friends.

Alfred came to stay the summer with Arthur when he was fifteen. Arthur was nineteen, then, and fully engrossed in his studies. He didn't spend much time with Alfred, much to his parent's chagrin. But at least the were no longer irritating each other. Alfred latched on to one of Arthur's friends, a Japanese boy named Kiku. Arthur wasn't sure how Kiku felt about Alfred, but he never complained. Arthur wasn't sure if Kiku and Alfred were actually friends, or if Kiku was just patient. Either way, Arthur admired him. Not just anyone could get through to that brat.

Kiku had to return to Japan after a few years, and Alfred, who was eighteen at the time, cried like a newborn child. Arthur, now twenty-two, felt bad for him, to some degree. But, Arthur worried, for now that they were both adults, a wedding would soon take place. Arthur had grown into quite the romantic, and an arranged marriage was no place to find love. He also felt bad for Alfred, as the younger man would also live his life without anyone to love him.

When Alfred turned twenty, and Arthur twenty-four, they began spending more time together. It was Alfred who insisted they did so, and it seemed to Arthur that Alfred treated him in a different manner. It felt odd, but not unpleasant, though Arthur would catch Alfred staring at him on occasion. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but if he mentioned it, Alfred would look away. In any case, the American was becoming almost bearable. If Arthur was completely honest with himself, then he would say Alfred was a little better than that. He might have even begun to like this man.

Alfred and Arthur got married when Arthur was twenty-five, and Alfred twenty-one. There wasn't much of a ceremony, and nearly all the guests were family. It was far from the magical wedding Arthur used to fantasize about. He decided that there were worse things, though, and worse men. So, with a sense of indifference, he took Alfred as his husband, and Alfred's family as his relatives. Arthur wasn't sure how Alfred felt about everything, but the younger man never complained.

They lived together for four years, and then Alfred asked a strange question. Arthur was twenty-nine, and Alfred now twenty-five. Arthur was sitting in his chair near the window, a book in his lap. Alfred was sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall when he suddenly looked to his husband. "Arthur." He started, frowning. "Do you love me?" This question took Arthur off guard, and he almost dropped his book. He shut it, and set it aside. "Do I what?" He asked, shoulders tensing.

Alfred asked again. "Do you love me?" The man seemed upset, a rare frown on his lips. Arthur was quiet for a moment, and then he answered. "Do I love you?" Arthur looked at Alfred. He'd been working a lot lately, perhaps he was just tired. "...You're worn out. Go lie down."

"Arthur, I'm asking you a question." Alfred sat up, and then stood, walking towards him. "Do you love me?"

Arthur scoffed. "You're an idiot."

"I know. But do you love me?"

"Do I love you?" Arthur repeated, leaning away from him. "For twenty-five years I've dealt with you. I've listened to your crazy ideas and tried to keep you out of trouble."

Alfred didn't seem convinced. "I've known you my whole life- I've always known we would get married. Mom and Dad said we'd learn to love each other, so I'm asking again. Do you love me?"

Arthur bit his lip, and tucked a bit of hair behind his ear, looking down at his lap. "I'm your husband."

"I know!" Alfred exclaimed, growing impatient. "But do you love me?"

Arthur breathed a sigh and stared at the wall. "Do I love him?" the man asked to himself, crossing his arms. "Twenty five years, I've lived with him. I've fought with him, laughed with him. Twenty fiv years and my house belongs to him. If that's not love, what is?" He looked up at Alfred, a light pink rising to his cheeks in a hopeful manner.

"Then you love me!" Alfred grinned, taking Arthur's hands.

"I suppose I do.."

Alfred laughed. "And I suppose I love you too."

A small smile came to Arthur's lips. "This doesn't change a thing...but still..after twenty five years...it's nice to know."


End file.
